


heat of the moment (telling you what my heart meant)

by middle_earthling



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Caring Dean Winchester, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s03e11 Mystery Spot, Gen, Hurt Sam Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, Poor Sam Winchester, Protective Dean Winchester, Season/Series 03, Traumatized Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-25
Updated: 2018-06-25
Packaged: 2019-05-28 10:37:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15047033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/middle_earthling/pseuds/middle_earthling
Summary: After Mystery Spot, Heat of the Moment is far from Sam's favourite song. Dean wants to know why.





	heat of the moment (telling you what my heart meant)

**Author's Note:**

> So, this may be completely out of character. It may also make no sense, both in terms of what actually happened during/after the Mystery Spot episode, and in terms of what Dean actually knows about what happened during that episode.  
> I hope it's not too bad. 
> 
> I haven't watched that episode in quite a while, but I randomly heard Heat of the Moment today and I wondered what Sam would feel if he heard the song again, after everything that happened... So I wrote this. It kind of got out of hand and went in a different direction than I originally planned, but, here we are.

_“It was the heat of the moment_  
_Telling me what your heart meant_  
_The heat of the moment shone in your – “_

A hand slams down harshly on the old radio, and it crackles a protest as the music abruptly dies. Harsh breathing fills the air in its place.

“Dean, what day is it?” Sam’s voice sounds oddly pained.

“Uh, Friday? Dude, are you okay?” Dean stares at his little brother, a concerned crease forming between his eyebrows.

At Dean’s words, the pure terror in Sam’s eyes fades a little, and he slumps into himself. His breath is still harsh though, and his hands are clenched tightly into fists at his sides.

“Yeah… yeah, I’m good,” Sam says, working hard to slow his breathing. “It’s definitely Friday?”

“Yeah, man. Yesterday was Thursday, and today is Friday. That’s how the days of the week go. Do you know what day comes after Friday, Sammy?” Dean’s tone is light and teasing, but his expression gives away his obvious concern.

Sam gives his brother his trademark bitch face, and slumps down in his seat. “I don’t really care, as long as it’s not Tuesday.”

 

****

 

_"It was the heat of the moment_  
_Telling me what your heart meant_  
_The heat of the moment shone in your eyes – “_

Sam whimpers in his sleep, then wakes abruptly, smacking his forehead on the Impala’s window as he does so. “Dean!” His hand shoots out and grabs frantically at Dean’s arm.

“Woah, Sammy! I’m driving here!” Dean says gruffly but takes a moment to glance at his brother.

Sam’s eyes are wide but glassy, almost as though he’s not entirely there. His hand, which is shaking slightly, is still holding tightly on to Dean’s arm.

“No, Dean! You can’t… you can’t be gone, you can’t. I have to stop this, I have to. I can’t… you can’t…” Sam trails off, and his eyes lose any focus that they had.

“Sam! What are you talking about?” Dean is still driving, but he quickly looks for a place he can pull over.

Sam doesn’t say anything, just keeps his hold on Dean’s arm.

“Damn it, Sam! What is going on? What’s wrong?” Dean pulls over onto the shoulder of the road and puts the Impala in park.

He turns to face Sam and finally gets a good look at his brother. Sam’s face is paper white, his eyes are dilated and vacant, and his chest is heaving like he can’t get a breath in.

“Sam! Sammy! You gotta help me out here man, what’s going on?” Dean desperately begs his brother, forcing his arm out of Sam’s grip and putting his own hands on Sam’s  
shoulders.

Sam doesn’t even seem to hear him, and his eyes start tracking something only he can see.

“Sammy, what the hell? Is this a vision? I thought those stopped? Sammy!” Dean shakes his brother a little and gets no reaction. Dean curses to himself, Sam being unresponsive like this is sending his big brother instincts into protective overdrive.

“Dean…” Sam’s voice is hoarse and pained, and Dean is concerned to see a few tears trace their way down his little brother’s pale cheeks.

“Sammy? You back with me?”

“Dean… No…” Sam’s eyes are not looking at Dean, but instead staring at something on the floor in abject horror.

“I guess that’s a no… Sorry Sammy but this has gone on long enough and you’re scaring me here,” Dean mutters to himself, and then he slaps Sam hard across the face.

Sam jolts back and his hand immediately covers the place where Dean had slapped him. “Ow, what the hell man?”

“You back with me?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You woke up and just started freaking out dude, you were crying and saying my name and it was like you weren’t even here. What the hell was that about?”

“Oh I…” Sam looks down at his lap, sniffs, and then schools his features. “Nothing. I was just dreaming, that was all. Just a nightmare.”

Dean raises a single eyebrow and looks at his brother. “Pretty weird dream if you ask me, what with the sitting up and the speaking and the grabbing me.”

“I don’t know what to tell you man, it was just a dream. I’m fine. Leave me alone.” Sam wraps his arms around himself and leans into the window.

“This is the second time you’ve been weird when that song started playing, what the hell is going on with you?”

“I told you. Nothing. It’s fine. It was just a dream, that’s all. Can we please get back on the road? This werewolf isn’t gonna kill itself you know.”

Dean gives his brother one last appraising look, but he knows a lost cause when he sees one, so he turns the radio back on and gets back on to the road.

 

****

  
_“It was the heat of the moment_  
_Telling me what your heart meant_  
_The heat of the moment shone in your eyes – “_

The groceries in Sam’s arms fall to the floor and he whirls around in terror, looking for the source of the music. “Dean? Dean?”

Dean quickly appears from another aisle, and grabs Sam by the shoulders. Having seen this happen two times already, Dean has realized there is something about this song that freaks Sam right out. He doesn’t know what, or why, but there is one thing he does know how to do, and that is look after Sammy.

“Hey, Sammy, kiddo, I’m right here, okay? You’re okay, I’m okay,” Dean is talking much louder than he normally would, hoping Sam will just hear him and not the music, and the other people in the dairy aisle are giving them strange looks.

“Dean,” Sam says again. His eyes are gaining that same glassy, far away sheen again and Dean is not having that.

“Right here, Sam. I’m right here, and I’m okay, see?” Dean moves one of his hands so that it’s clasping one of Sam’s, in between their bodies. “I’m right here, do you see?”

“You’re okay? Dean?” Sam’s voice is small, almost lost.

“Yeah Sammy, I’m okay.” Dean takes the hand that he is holding and places it on his own chest, right over his heart, so Sam can feel his heart beating.

“Dean?” Sam is looking at his hand on Dean’s chest, but his voice sounds stronger and his eyes are focused.

“Yeah. Right here, Sammy. Not going anywhere.” The song is still playing, tinnily, over the crappy grocery store speakers, and Dean knows he needs to get Sam out of there as soon as he can.

“Okay. You’re here? Is it Wednesday?” Sam says.

“I…” Dean’s brow furrows in confusion for a moment. “It’s Monday, Sam.”

“Monday?” Sam repeats.

“Yeah Sam, Monday. Does that matter?”

Sam’s face has started to lose the lost puppy look, and he seems more like himself.

“Yes. No. I mean. Monday. Monday is good.”

Dean has no idea why the day of the week is linked to Sam’s Asia induced freak outs, but he doesn’t think Sam’s going to answer his questions right now.

“Yeah, Monday’s good Sammy,” he says instead of any of the questions he’s desperate to ask.

“It’s Monday. You’re okay? It’s Monday and you’re okay.” Sam is mostly talking to himself at this point, but the song is still playing, and Dean can sense a freak out building again.

“Yeah, man. I’m okay. But I need to get you out of here.” Dean uses the arm still around Sam’s shoulder to guide him towards the exit as quickly as he can.

As soon as they are outside of the grocery store, and they can no longer hear the tinny sounds of the Heat of the Moment, Dean can literally see Sam relax. His shoulders slump and his breathing eases.

“You alright, kiddo?” Dean says, allowing his concern to leach into his tone.

Sam takes a deep breath. “Yeah. Yeah. I’m good. I just wasn’t expecting that. But it’s fine. Sorry for… zoning out.”

Dean looks at Sam for a moment. “That was more than zoning out, Sam, that was… I dunno, a panic attack or something. What is going on with you?”

Sam ducks his head to avoid eye contact.

“Nothing. It’s… it doesn’t matter.”

“Doesn’t matter? Sam, you were freaking out, last time you were even unresponsive. Stop bullshitting me, what’s going on with you? Don’t you dare say nothing, I know this isn’t nothing. You haven’t been right ever since the thing with the Trickster, and now you’re having a panic attack every time you hear an Asia song?”

“Don’t… don’t talk about the song, Dean, please don’t.”

“Sam, what the hell?”

“It’s not important, it doesn’t matter. It’s fine, I’m fine. Leave it alone.” Sam pushes past Dean and makes off for the Impala, parked a few meters away.

Despite his inner warnings telling him to keep pushing Sam, saying this was going to happen again and you need to know what is going on to be able to help him, Dean just sighs through his nose and follows Sam, and doesn’t bring it up again that day.

 

****

 

_“It was the heat of the moment_  
_Telling me what your heart meant_  
_The heat of the moment shone in your eyes – “_

Dean hears the opening notes of the song he now dreads and turns it off as quickly as he can. But it’s too late, Sam has already heard it. He tenses immediately, and one hand clenches into a fist.

“You okay, Sammy?”

Sam takes a deep breathe and holds it for a second, before letting it out and unclenching his fist.

“Yeah. Yep. It’s not Tuesday, is it?”

“It’s Sunday, Sam,” Dean replies, surprised that Sam seems to be holding it together this time.

Sam nods. “Okay. Sunday.”

“Yeah. You okay, dude?”

Sam nods again. “I’m okay. Thanks for turning it off.”

“Are you gonna tell me what this is about now?”

“It doesn’t matter Dean, it’s not important. What’s important is doing our job and finding a way to get you out of your deal.”

“Get me out of my – Sam, you. Is that what this is about? You won’t let me worry about you because of the deal? Sam, that doesn’t matter. I made my deal and it’s going to happen but that doesn’t mean I’m going to just ignore anything going on with you.”

“No. I’m not going to let you die, I’m not.”

“You don’t have a choice Sam, and that’s not what this conversation is about. What the hell is going on with you?”

“That is what this conversation is about, Dean! You can’t die! I won’t let you. I’ve seen you die a thousand times, and it never gets any easier. In fact, it only gets worse. I can’t. I won’t let you.”

“You’ve seen me die a thousand times?”

“Every time I heard this song… You died. I woke up and it was Tuesday and this song was playing. And you died. You died every damn time and there was nothing I could do to stop it. Nothing I could do to save you.” Sam stares at his lap and blinks away the wetness building in his eyes.

“Sammy, I don’t… This is what the Trickster did to you? He made you watch me die, every day? For how long?”

“I don’t know. Forever, maybe. You died in ways I didn’t even know people could die. I tried to save you every day and every day I failed. Then, one day, you died for real. Or I thought you did anyways. I woke up and it was Wednesday, and you still died. I spent months without you. You were really gone, and I couldn’t deal with it.”

“Sam…” Dean looks at his little brother, his heart breaking for him. He saw Sam die, once, and sold his soul to bring him back. If he had been forced to watch Sam die, every day, for God knows how long… Dean thinks now he understands why Sam has been freaking out the way he has.

“It’s okay, Dean. It wasn’t real. Just a trick, from the Trickster. But it felt real. And hearing that song… I can’t. I know it wasn’t real, but I can’t go back there Dean, I can’t. I can’t let you die.”

“Sammy,” Dean starts.

“No, Dean. You don’t know what it was like. I won’t let you die again. I’m going to find a way to save you from your deal.”

“Sam, if I don’t go through with my deal, then you die. Do you think its any easier for me to watch you die? To live without you?”

“I’m not letting you die, Dean.”

“Not everything goes your way, Sam.”

“I’m not gonna argue with you about this, Dean,” Sam’s face has lost most of its grief and fear and has instead gained a look of stubborn determination.

Dean looks at him, and decides that for now, this conversation isn’t worth it. He is going to die, and Sam is going to have to deal with it, but for now, Sam just needs reassurance that he isn’t dead yet.

“Whatever, bitch.”

Sam’s lips quirk up in a tiny smile. “Jerk.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I'd really appreciate any feedback, especially about if Dean and Sam actually seem to be in character. I've never written anything Supernatural before, despite being in the fandom for six years, so I'd love to know how I did.


End file.
